“Lean forward.”
He leaned forward, and I slowly poured the water over his head. Blood, hidden by his dark hair, trailed down his back. Claw marks scored him, raised paths of red welts occasionally broken by a cut or scrape. Bruises colored his sides. I honestly didn’t know what I could do for him.
I repeated the process, wondering what good it did to rinse with bloody water.
“Can you have Mary heat more water?”
“She already is,” he said wiping a hand across his face and leaning back once more. I set the bowl aside and reached for his right arm. I lifted it to the edge of the tub. He did the same with the other arm. It gave me a better view of his ribs and chest and everything that needed some type of aid.
“I can’t stitch you,” I said, sitting back on my heels. “I’m horrible at regular sewing, and the thought of poking a needle through skin...” I shuddered. “Please let Mary help you.”
He sighed, sunk lower in the tub, and laid his head back. “Not Mary.”
Someone knocked on the door a moment before it opened.
“Hello, Charlene,” Grey said, stepping in.
“Hi, Grey.” I stood, moved away from the tub, and considered the door for a moment.
“Stay, Charlene,” Thomas said as if sensing my thoughts. “I don’t trust you out there alone.”
“All right.” I knew it was the men he didn’t trust, not me.
Grey grabbed the sewing kit from the washstand and came to join me by the tub. He looked his brother over and chuckled at the square of cloth in Thomas’ lap.
“Just the ear, I think,” Grey said.
“Are you sure? He has a large cut on his thigh, and his neck has several holes.”
“Those will knit together quickly. Barely a scar. The ear is different. The cartilage makes healing more difficult.” He threaded the needle and used alcohol on everything.
Thomas made a small noise between his teeth when the needle pierced his skin. My stomach roiled, and I looked away.
The knuckles of Thomas’ hand were bloody. I took one of the cloths, dipped it in the cold rinse water, and gently started to clean away the red. His hand turned, catching mine. His thumb brushed over the top of my fingers. I couldn’t look up and meet his gaze, not with Grey sewing his ear.
I watched Thomas’ thumb until Grey stood.
“I’ll leave you to finish,” he said. The door closed behind him.
“I can finish on my own,” Thomas said, his thumb never stilling. “The room is clear of everyone but Mary and Grey. Go eat.”
I still couldn’t look at him. I nodded and stood, and he let my hand go.
“Save me some food if there’s enough,” he said as I walked toward the door. I looked over my shoulder and saw him gently touching his ear.
“I will.” Then I left him, too.
Mary stood at the pump, washing dishes. Grey leaned against the wall near the door, no doubt our guard.
“There’s a plate on the table for you,” Mary said.
“Thank you. Did Ann get a plate?”
“Yes, Leif came for hers.” Leif and Ann mostly kept to their room whenever there were more than a few men around. Leif protected Ann well.
I sat and ate a cold carrot from one of the two plates waiting on the small table. It was heaven, and my food disappeared too soon. As I brought the plate to the sink, the bathroom door opened.
Thomas stepped out wearing a clean pair of pants. His hair was still damp, but the rest of him looked dry. He followed me to the pump and reached under the trough for the bucket Mary and I used to empty the tub. We usually just emptied all the water through the trough, which ran out clay pipes into a low spot behind the building. It was a lot quicker and safer than walking around the buildings.
“It’s all right. Leave it for now,” I said. “When Mary and I finish with the dishes, we’ll empty it. We don’t want to mix bath water with dish water.”
He straightened, nodded, and went to eat his own plate of food. As soon as he finished, he brought the plate to the sink then left with Grey.
Finally alone with Mary, I asked what I’d been wondering since the fight ended.
“Mary, what did that man mean about Thomas only being able to hold so many?” I asked, trying to speak softly.
Mary grinned and shook her head. “Don’t worry. It’s no secret. Every leader has a limit on the number of members he can hold in his pack. Winifred says it’s like how much a person can lift. It’s different for everyone. The connection I have with Thomas doesn’t feel strained. Adding two more members shouldn’t be a problem.”
I nodded and began to dry the plates.
“Winifred has no limits, though, right?”
“No. But, she doesn’t really hold our kind together like a pack leader does. She says her role is a bit difficult to explain, and she’d rather do it in person.”